GTA: Chaos
by FinalFantasyDude
Summary: THIS STORY HAS BEEN STOPPED! I will continue this story after I finish my other story, Braska's Pilgrimage! Be patient please...
1. Introduction

GRAND THEFT AUTO: CHAOS  
  
Note: This story has nothing to do with Grand Theft Auto 1, 2, or 3. This is a new story, but with the same type of plot. Killing people, and blowing things up.  
  
Note: I do not own Grand Theft Auto or RockStar. I am just a fan.  
  
Enjoy my story. Please review, because I will only add more if you do.  
  
  
  
Michael, a twenty-seven year old criminal, was in jail for a long time now. He went to jail when he was just twenty-one. If only he never did that terrible chain of crimes, he would of never been in jail, for this long. Well, there was only twelve years left until he gets to be a free man again.  
  
The sink next to his bed was dripping again, and that made Michael go nuts. He hated that noise. Drip. Drip. Drip. It didn't stop!  
  
"Shut the fuck up sink!" Michael yelled, as he kicked it. He knew a sink was an inanimate object, but by now he was going crazy. He talked to himself, he was paranoid, he hallucinated, and he talked to inanimate objects.  
  
"Ouch!" he screamed. He hurt is foot hard on the metal. It started to get black-and-blue, and he decided to rest.  
  
Michael lay down on his uncomfortable bed, pulled over his blanket made out of what seemed like wood, and closed his eyes. He kept on moving around, but he couldn't sleep. He figured it was because of the dripping, and just waited until it stopped.  
  
Waiting. Waiting, waiting, and waiting more. That's all Michael ever did. There was absolutely nothing inside the jail cell, except for a leaking sink, a bed, a toilet, and some rough toilet paper. It was the closest thing to hell, and Michael wanted out of it, quick. He couldn't wait twelve more years. He had to get out now, or he would go even more nuts.  
  
Most of the time, in the cell, Michael dreamed of his revenge. He dreamt of leaving the jail cell, a free man, and killing all of the guards painfully, one by one by one. Then, he would leave the jail, murdering everyone he saw, with his favorite weapon, the flame-thrower. He would car- jack a shiny, expensive car, such as a Banshee, Stinger, or Cheetah. Then he would drive around, showing no mercy to anyone on the streets, and get back to his place. The Mafia. That is where he belonged.  
  
Ah, the Mafia. They helped Michael become what he is. A psychotic maniac deprived of freedom and happiness. But he wasn't at all mad at the Mafia. He was angry at the other gang he joined while he was a criminal. The Mafia never betrayed Michael. They only helped him. The other gang, the Yakuzas, did this to him. They used him, like a tool. A worthless tool. If Michael's fantasy revenge came true, he would gang up with the Mafia, and kill everyone in the Yakuza gang.  
  
But, that was never going to happen. He was never going to leave his jail cell until his time was up, in twelve years. He was never going to get out into the freedom and fresh air, and re-join the excellent Mafia that he once was in. If he did, in twelve years, it was obvious him and the other Mafia members wouldn't be able to destroy the Yakuza gang. They were one of the strongest gangs in Liberty City, where Michael lives.  
  
Michael lived in Portland for half of his life, and then moved to Staunton Island for a while. He loved living in Liberty City, where the only dirty word is hope. He loved watching crime appear in every direction, every single second of his life. It was entertaining to watch people bleed, and die.  
  
After he was eighteen, and wasn't accepted into the Liberty City College, which is pretty hard not to be accepted, he decided to go one step further. He decided to be an entertainer; a murderer. A thief, a destroyer, a killer. Everything related to crime. He needed to be bad, very much.  
  
Michael just had to let out everything he had; all of the things that ever angered him. His parents were divorced and his big sister died at the age thirteen. He still remembers the gunshot, and the loud scream of his sister, who was still just a kid. Ever since those incidents, which happened in the same year, Michael became a twisted part of nature. He was tempted to commit suicide many times, but prevented himself. He then decided to let others feel his torture, and became a killer. He joined the Mafia to be more of an organized murderer, with many partners and companions on his side.  
  
After a terrible misunderstanding, Michael believed that the Mafia was using him. But he later found out that he was incorrect. But it was too late, because he already joined the Yakuza gang in Staunton Island after leaving the Mafia. He resented his mistake very much, since the Yakuza was much less friendly, and much less fun. Later, it turns out the Yakuza used him, and set him up. He was arrested for eighteen years. Six years passed by since then. Now, he was stuck in the Liberty City jail, a place that smelled like shit, and didn't feel like home at all.  
  
Michael stopped dreaming of his revenge, and decided to rest again. He walked back to his stone bed, and lied down. The noisy dripping of the sink was stopping, and he was able to get some piece and quite, until he heard a loud gun shot.  
  
There was a giant bang outside the jail, and Michael jumped out of his bed and ran to the barred window to see what was going on. He saw a small black man, and a large white man in a suit. It was obvious who they were. The Triads and the Mafia.  
  
He recognized the man and called out to him. "Pete! Pete, over here!" yelled Michael. Usually he wasn't allowed to talk to the people outside, but all of the jail guards ran outside to see the crime. "Pete, do you remember me?" The man Michael called Pete shot the Triad in the stomach, leaving him on the floor, bleeding and twitching. Pete then looked over at the window, and saw Michael.  
  
"Michael? Is that you?" said Pete. He seemed to recognize him.  
  
"Yes, it is. Pete, you have to help me. I am stuck in here, and I need to get out before I go any more crazy," replied Michael.  
  
"Sorry kid. I have to get out of here. The police will be here any second, and I have to escape," said Pete.  
  
"Fuck!" Michael thought to himself.  
  
He walked back to his bed, with no more sign of happiness whatsoever. He was terribly bored. What he wanted was pain, and pain to other people.  
  
Then, he decided to think over what he was doing, when he first became a criminal. He wanted to remember what happened. When he became a member of the Mafia, and then the Yakuza. He decided to sit down on his bed, close his brown eyes, and just think about everything that happened.  
  
It all started when Michael was a young boy. When he was eighteen… 


	2. The beggining

GRAND THEFT AUTO: CHAOS  
  
  
  
Michaels crime life all started when he turned eighteen. He was walking out of his classroom in the Liberty City High School, with his friends Jamal and Sid. The three of them were probably the toughest kids in the school, since they were seniors. They were always flicking people off and beating people up. Michael walked out of his history class and bumped into a small kid with red hair and glasses.  
  
"Oh, sorry Mikey. Hehe," said the weak kid with red hair. He was in the same grade as Michael.  
  
"Don't call me Mikey you shithead!" and Michael held the red head by the hands, and Jamal and Sid took turns punching him.  
  
"Hey, hey you three! Stop that!" called the principle, who was down the hall. The principle started to run toward Michael, but he let go of the read head and him and his two friends ran away.  
  
"Is he gone?" asked Sid.  
  
"Ya, I think he is," replied Jamal.  
  
"That bastard always ruins our fun. So, you guys got into a college?" asked Michael. Believe it or not, the three tried to get into college. They didn't seem like the type, but people just figured they were going to college to become master thieves or bomb-creators or something like that.  
  
"Yes. Me and Jamal both got our replies yesterday in the mail," said Sid, who was still panting from all of the running.  
  
"And what did it say?" asked Michael. He was still waiting his response, but he hoped to get it today. He sent in a interview for the same college as his two best friends, the Liberty City University, so they can kick some ass together for four more years.  
  
"I got in yo. I was actually kinda surprised, but I did it. And this dumbass next to me also got in, which really made me wonder," started Jamal, followed by a loud thud as Sid pushed him down to the floor.  
  
"Just joking!" said Jamal quickly, to make sure Sid wouldn't hit him again.  
  
"Ok, so did you get in Michael? I hope you did, that would kick ass," asked Sid.  
  
"I didn't get my response yet." Michael's last class started, and all he can think about was his response. He knew he would get it today, because the college sends out their responses the same day.  
  
After forty-five long, boring minutes of an old man teaching math, the bell rang, and it was music to Michael's ears. He got his books in his bag, and ran outside. He ran to the subway at the speed of light, just a few blocks away. He waited on line impatiently, got his ticket, and ran into the subway to Shoreside Vale, which was where him and pretty much everyone else lived.  
  
After what seemed an eternity, the subway started to stop, and Michael ran out, back to the streets. He started running, not even noticing the people he ran into on the way. After a few blocks, he saw his home. 24 Sqith Street. He walked up the driveway, panting a lot from all of the running, and slowly opened his mailbox. He took out the mail, and walked inside. He started looking through the mail.  
  
"Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail, birthday card…here it is! The response from the Liberty City University!" said Michael to himself. He knew he was talking to himself but he didn't mind. He was just so excited.  
  
He opened It very carefully, and took out the big letter. He read it aloud.  
  
Dear Michael Malorito,  
  
We have recently received an interview tape from you. After much consideration, we decided on if we should pick you or not.  
  
We would like to inform you that we think our decision is an honest decision, and will not be changed for any reason.  
  
Now, we regret to inform you, but you were not accepted into the Liberty City University. We are sorry, and wish you luck to find another college.  
  
-Liberty City University  
  
Michael just stood still, with a giant frown on his face. He was miserable. He knew he wouldn't be able to get a good job, he wouldn't be able to kick ass with his friends, and no other college would take him if Liberty City wouldn't. He just stood there, and then he let out a giant yell.  
  
Michael constantly moped, until the end of the school year, which was about a month later. He decided that moping wouldn't do anything at all, so he decided to forget about it. "What the fuck am I going to do with my life?" he thought to himself, as he was walking down the sidewalk. He didn't take the subway today, because he just wanted some time walking, and thinking.  
  
"Maybe I will become a janitor…or a plumber," he thought to himself some more. He was so upset, and he was sure he would be a failure in life. But something changed his life.  
  
He was still in Portland, because that is where his school was, and there was a giant shooting. He heard many gunblasts, and started to run. He was near the bridge to Staunton, and he knew there wasn't as much crime there, so he started to run faster. Just then, as he passed a small building, and was right next to a crack between two buildings. A small man in a black suit, sunglasses, and a small suitcase ran up to him, and brought him in between the buildings.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Michael asked the man.  
  
"I'm Tony, a part of the Mafia in Liberty City. Now shut the fuck up before any Triads find us," said the man.  
  
"The Mafia?" thought Michael. He totally forgot about them, but…no. He convinced himself that he was too weak to be in the Mafia.  
  
Just then, Tony clamped his hand over Michael's mouth, to make sure he wouldn't talk, and a big black man in a bandana and a green jacket walked by with a big machine gun. He didn't bother looking in the small crack, luckily, and just walked past the building.  
  
"Good, now follow me," said Tony. Michael wondered why Tony wanted him, but he didn't say anything and just followed him. After walking a few blocks, the two ended up at the most famous strip club in Liberty City; the Sex Club Seven. Another man in the Mafia, Luigi, owned it.  
  
"Why are we here?" asked Michael.  
  
"Shut up kid. I'll do all of the talking," replied Tony.  
  
The two of them walked inside, and Michaels ears started to hurt. The music was terribly loud. As he covered his ears, he started to look around at the women and started to enjoy it. He was never in a strip-club before.  
  
"Stop fantasizing kid. We have to go upstairs to the business room," said Tony, knowing that Michael was being enjoyed.  
  
They walked past all of the drunk perverts to the stairs, and started walking up. There was a single door, and Tony took out a key and unlocked it. Tony walked in, followed by Michael.  
  
Michael was greeted with about twenty people that looked similar to Tony with machine guns pointing at his head. He immediately realized that the Mafia was having a meeting here. He started to shake. He was doomed. 


End file.
